He frowned. ‘Since when did you have to ask my permission?’
She slipped from the bed, darting to the bathroom to grab a robe. ‘I know I don’t. I just… God, this is going to sound stupid.’ Her hands grasped the belt, tightening it around her. ‘I feel like I’m always putting them first which isn’t fair on you. You have a right to expect to come first sometimes.’ Her eyes glistened as they found his. ‘You deserve to have someone who puts you first, Michael.’
His heart jolted. What was she trying to say? ‘Of course Jack and Luke come first. I wouldn’t expect, or even want, it any other way.’
She gave him a sad smile. ‘Liar.’
‘Okay, okay.’ He was starting to feel edgy now, like this was building up to something. ‘Sure, it can be a bit frustrating—’
‘Like Barcelona.’ She started rummaging through her bag, presumably for her phone.
‘Which you came out to.’
‘Yes, for a few hours.’ Finally, phone in hand, she looked at him. ‘Not for the weekend like we’d originally planned. Like you wanted me too.’
He conceded her point with a nod of his head. ‘But I understand you and the boys are a package deal and that’s fine with me. You’re a pretty amazing package.’ Thrusting aside the duvet, ignoring the fact he was stark bollock naked, he walked over to her, clasping her face, heart lurching at the sight of the tears in her eyes. ‘Where’s all this coming from?’
‘Don’t you sometimes consider how much easier it would be if you were dating a woman who didn’t have children?’
‘No,’ he replied firmly, squeezing away the tears that rested on her lids, ready to spill at any moment.
‘Never?’
He recalled how he’d briefly considered how much simpler his life would be if he’d fancied Georgina.
‘See?’ She was staring up him, and the sadness, the worry in her eyes frightened him.
‘Jessie, Jessie.’ He cradled her to his chest, her head against his heart, hoping she could somehow sense all the love he felt for her. ‘Sure, my life might be easier, but if easy is all I’d wanted, I wouldn’t have spent so many years alone.’ Gently he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids. The dimples either side of her mouth. ‘I don’t want easy. I want you. Your love of life, your natural warmth, your honesty, your luscious curves. Your sexy mouth that rarely shuts up.’ Pausing, he bent to kiss it. ‘And I want to get to know your kids, too, because they’re part of you. A very special part, from what I’ve seen so far.’
She smiled, though tears swam in her eyes. ‘They are. Thank you.’
Giving her a final kiss, he straightened up. ‘I’ll take a shower while you phone home.’
Chapter Thirty
As she got ready for the ball, Jessie wished someone with very strong hands would come and take her by the shoulders and tear her in two. Half of her could then go back home to be with her poorly son. The other half could look forward to tonight with all the anticipation, the pleasure a woman being taken on a fancy date by the man she loved, should be feeling.
Instead, as she applied the finishing touches to a look that would hopefully provide the dazzle she knew she was currently lacking, worry squirmed in her stomach. It didn’t matter that Phil had said Luke’s temperature had gone down with paracetamol. She hated being so far away from her sick child.
‘Beautiful.’ Michael was waiting as she came out of the bedroom, warm appreciation in his eyes.
She glanced down at her red dress. The same one she’d worn three times for him now. Tonight it felt alien on her. The stockings dug into her thighs, the thong felt like a cheese wire between her buttocks and her stomach was only flat when she breathed in. He was being kind. This wasn’t her.
‘I could say the same to you.’ She wasn’t just being kind. He was beautiful. The expensive tux hugged his athletic frame, the white shirt emphasised his tanned face, the beauty of his deep blue eyes. He looked like the superstar he was. It both excited and unnerved her.
His eyes settled on the ruby necklace, proudly sitting round her neck, and he gave her that rarest of treats. A full-blown smile.
‘You brought it.’
‘You gave me a Cartier necklace. Of course I’m going to wear it every chance I get. Do I look crazy?’
He ran a finger down her cheek, her throat, towards her cleavage, making her shiver. ‘You look incredible.’
Her heart did a crazy dance at his flattering words. At the unmistakable desire in his eyes. ‘If I do, it’s because of the necklace.’
He smiled. ‘I predict you’ll look just as incredible when I take it off you in a few hours.’ She watched as he planted a gentle kiss where the ruby nestled in the V of her breasts.
Finally he raised his eyes to hers. ‘Georgina and Robert are waiting for us. Are you ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’
It was meant to be a light, throwaway line but the apprehension she was feeling must have registered with him because he didn’t move. Just gazed at her, concern etched across his face. ‘We don’t have to go. I know you’re worried about Luke. We can stay here and worry together if you prefer.’
She managed a weak smile. ‘No, I’m fine, let’s go. I’m sure champagne and dancing will take my mind off things, and I’ve got my phone.’
‘Okay, then.’ He held out his arm and as she slotted hers through it, he winked. ‘You shall go to the ball.’
Sadly it wasn’t long before Jessie began to feel like Cinderella. In fact all it took was to step outside Michael’s suite to where Georgina and Robert were waiting.
‘I recognise that dress.’
The glint in Georgina’s eye told Jessie she knew exactly how condescending her comment was. ‘Just getting my money’s worth,’ she remarked easily, flashing the woman a false smile before turning to Robert and giving him a real one.
They made small talk as they walked towards the function room but as they stepped inside, only Jessie gaped as she took in the magnificence of the room. Classy silver drapes, glittering chandeliers and elegantly dressed tables. It was like the photographs she’d seen of a high society wedding. Only on a larger scale.
Immediately a swarm of people surrounded them; women decked out in diamonds, men in their expensive tuxedos. Gratefully Jessie fingered her necklace, hoping their eyes would focus on that and not her dress. A small fortune to her, but decidedly high street compared to the designer dresses bombarding her.
As Michael made small talk he made sure to include her; a squeeze of her hand, a lingering glance, a smile aimed purely at her.
None of it helped.
While he modestly accepted the praise lavished on him for his performance the previous evening, she could only think I don’t belong here. Michael could be stiff, awkward, formal – she’d seen it all – but tonight he was charming and confident, rubbing easily alongside these people of similar wealth or celebrity. It wasn’t him, she knew that, but equally it could never be her. She didn’t sing, wasn’t in television, couldn’t talk money. And who the hell would be interested in tales from her village pharmacy?
‘I’m just going to powder my nose,’ she whispered, shaking her head when Michael moved to join her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she mouthed before turning and hurrying off to find the ladies.
She lingered over the routine of touching up her face, listening to the gossip of the other women as they discussed who was sleeping with who behind their husband’s back. It was idle chatter, no different to that she’d heard at other parties, except these women dripped with diamonds, and their dresses cost more than Jessie’s annual clothes budget. When she emerged, she glanced across to where Michael was still surrounded by eyelash fluttering women. He caught her eye and gestured for her to join him but she simply smiled, for once happier to be on the sidelines.
‘Not a bad looking bloke, is he?’ Robert came up to her and handed her a glass of champagne. ‘But for God’s sake don’t tell him I said that.’
Jessie accepted the glass with a g
rateful smile. ‘My lips are sealed.’ Involuntarily her gaze went back to Michael.
‘Can’t sing for toffee, mind.’
She laughed, appreciating Robert’s down to earth sense of humour. ‘You’re right. I really showed him up in that final.’
Robert’s eyes followed hers and he gave her a wry smile. ‘There’s always been plenty of women keen to get their hands on him. As if he’s some sort of trophy they want to put on their mantelpiece.’
The thought made Jessie bristle. ‘There’s so much more to him than that.’
This time his smile was genuine. ‘Which is exactly the reason he’s fallen in love with you. You can see him for who he really is, aside from a pretty face, a good voice and a large bank balance.’
Robert’s words, kindly meant, only made Jessie more jittery. Michael had already told her he loved her, but hearing the same words from his best friend cemented the knowledge. Made it feel real, rather than something he’d said in the heat of the moment back in her kitchen all those weeks ago. He’d not given his heart lightly either. Jessie knew he’d been badly hurt after Paula, so to realise she now held his happiness – as well as her own – in her hands, felt like a burden too heavy to carry.
‘Jessie, is everything alright?’
With a guilty start, Jessie waved away Robert’s concern. ‘Sorry. My youngest isn’t very well. It’s hard to shake him out of my mind.’
For a while Robert said nothing, just nodded and watched as Michael continued to be the focus of attention. ‘Do you mind me asking why you came then, if you’re worried about him?’
‘I’m not… well, not really. He’s got his dad with him so I’m sure he’ll be okay.’ The lies tripped easily off her tongue as she’d told them to herself many times since she’d left Luke sitting on the sofa.
‘I suspect you’re not telling me the truth.’ Robert looked at her questioningly. ‘I suspect you came this weekend because you didn’t want to let Michael down, though your heart is back at home.’
At that moment Michael glanced in her direction, his eyes asking a silent question. Are you okay?
She wanted to nod and smile. Reassure him that of course she was, but her body wouldn’t conform. Even from across the room she saw Michael’s stance stiffen. Then suddenly he was shaking hands and moving towards them. Turning women’s heads as he passed.
Robert touched her arm, his face more serious than she’d ever seen it. ‘Just one piece of advice. If you have any doubts about your relationship with Michael, any doubts at all, you owe it to him to say something. Don’t let him carry on thinking everything is working if it isn’t. He’s been skewered already by one woman who did that to him. He doesn’t deserve it to happen again.’
Michael’s heart was in his throat as he strode towards Jessie. Shit, she looked… frozen. Numb. All the usual vitality stripped from her.
He’d bloody kill Robert if he’d said anything to upset her.
‘Everything okay?’ He gave Robert a look intended to make the guy quake in his boots but Robert shrugged and as he walked away he held up his hands in a gesture clearly intended to imply he wasn’t the cause.
Jessie blinked a few times then seemed to gather herself, smiling at him in a pretty good imitation of a woman enjoying herself. ‘Everything’s fine.’
It was a shame he knew her smile was fake. ‘Robert hasn’t said anything to upset you? Because if he has, I’ll break his arm.’
Jessie’s eyes widened in shock. ‘I didn’t take you for a violent man.’
Michael took a breath, tried to push away all his churned-up feelings. ‘I’m not. But I can’t bear the thought of him, or anyone else, upsetting you.’
‘Oh, Michael.’ She reached up to kiss him, but he saw the sadness in her eyes. It didn’t help his doom-laden mood. Suddenly she broke away and gave him a brittle smile. ‘You promised me a dance.’
He didn’t feel like dancing. He felt like dragging her back to his suite and making her talk to him. But they were being watched, and Jessie clearly didn’t want to talk so he held out his hand. ‘Jessie Simmons, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?’
She gave him a mock curtsey and slipped her hand into his. It felt small, fragile. Far too cold for the temperature of the room. ‘I have to warn you,’ she whispered as they made their way onto the dance floor, ‘I’m as bad at dancing as I am at singing.’
Playing her game of let’s-pretend-everything-is-okay, he smiled. ‘That’s okay, because I’m nearly as good at dancing as I am at singing.’
She rolled her eyes but the playful gesture looked odd on her too-stiff face. ‘Is there anything you can’t do?’
Relationships, he thought bitterly, because surely if he could she’d be able to talk to him rather than this current charade. ‘I’m a lousy cook, wasn’t much good at team sports and totally flunked science,’ he told her flatly.
They danced to two songs but all the while Jessie felt like a plank of wood in his arms. He stroked her back soothingly, trying to get her to relax but if anything she grew even stiffer, clinging to him as if she was terrified he was going to leave her.
‘Have you had enough?’ he asked finally, because he certainly had.
She nodded and he led her away from the floor, stopping briefly to tell Robert he was leaving. When they got back to the room he marched towards the minibar. ‘Something tells me you could do with a stiff drink. Whiskey? Brandy?’ He grabbed a miniature for himself and poured it into a glass before taking a deep swallow.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she shook her head. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined the evening for you. I shouldn’t have come.’
His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. ‘I don’t give a stuff about the ball and I’m immensely grateful to you for coming. You have no idea how much I miss you.’ Clearly his words weren’t helping because she started to cry even harder. Cursing himself he wrapped his arms around her. ‘Hey, shush.’ Once again he stroked her back, feeling utterly useless. Wishing he had the empathy, the sensitivity needed to help her.
She looked at her watch and he knew what she was thinking. ‘It’s five in the morning. I don’t think Phil will thank you for phoning him.’ He tucked a finger under her chin, raising her watery eyes to meet his. ‘He’d have phoned if there was a problem.’
‘Yes, yes. You’re right.’ She sighed, ducking her head and playing with the buttons on his shirt. ‘Do you mind if we go to bed?’
He laughed sadly. ‘You never have to ask. I’ll always want to go to bed with you.’
But as he gently unzipped her dress and drank in her beautiful body, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last time he’d be doing it for a long while.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jessie was wide awake at 4 a.m., gazing down at Michael as she tried to forever imprint the nuances of his beautiful face on her memory. She had no doubt she’d see it again, staring out at her from his latest album cover, or from her television if she ever found the strength to watch. Yet it was only being this close that she could see the crinkles round his eyes. Admire the sharp angles of his cheekbones. Witness the dark bristle across a jaw that was always clean-shaven for the cameras.
He was a beautiful man, inside and out. But one she was going to have to say goodbye to for the sake of her children. And her sanity.
She’d phoned home an hour ago and Phil had answered on the second ring.
‘How’s Luke?’ she’d asked immediately.
‘Much the same as yesterday. Listless, off his food, grumpy. He still has a temperature.’
‘Have you checked for a rash?’ The pharmacist in her knew what the symptoms could mean, and meningitis, though rare, was one of them.
‘There’s no rash,’ he reassured her in an exasperated voice. ‘Stop getting yourself worked up.’
Easy to say when you were the one sitting next to Luke. Jessie had felt so helpless on the other side of the Atlantic. A feeling that had only amplified when she’
d asked to speak to Luke himself.
‘When are you coming home, Mum?’ he’d asked in a plaintive voice that had wrenched a quiet sob from her. ‘I don’t feel good and I want you to make it better.’
Her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. ‘I’m coming home today, Luke,’ she found herself saying. ‘Mum’s coming home.’
Beside her Michael stirred, clearly sensing she was awake.
‘Hey, what is it?’ Immediately he shot up. ‘Have you heard from home?’
‘I phoned a while back.’ A look of alarm crossed his face and she shook her head. ‘Luke’s okay. No better, but no worse than yesterday.’ She touched a hand to his face. ‘But I have to go home, Michael. I can’t be here while he’s not well. I can’t.’
His lids lowered, masking his thoughts, and he rubbed at his chin, making a rasping noise as his hand passed over the dark shadow. ‘I understand.’ His eyes were so full of sadness it made her ache. ‘I’ll phone the airport while you dress and pack.’
‘I already checked. The first flight is at six. I’m booked on it. A taxi is coming in half an hour.’
His expression darkened. ‘You’re not paying for it.’ Before she could tell him she didn’t care, she wasn’t going to argue about something as stupid as money, he’d picked up the phone and managed to re-book her ticket with his card.
He was quiet as she packed up her things and she wondered if he sensed how she was feeling, or if he was just too scared to say the wrong thing to her.
‘When will I see you again?’ he asked finally as they sat together on the sofa, waiting.
A ball of emotion jammed into the back of her throat. She had to end it, and now, while she could do it face to face, but the words just wouldn’t come out. She could only shake her head.
‘I guess now isn’t the time to discuss it.’ He took hold of her hand and brought the palm to his lips. ‘I’ll call you when you’re back and we can check the diaries.’
Her heart felt crushed, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. ‘I can’t do this any more, Michael,’ she said on a sob. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t see you again.’
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